The Pathological Liar
by Liv1
Summary: And I quote - Love makes you do the wacky. (r&r please! Come on! You know you wannnnnnnnna!) *B/F slash*


- a u t h e n t i c i t y - the pathological liar

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The Pathological Liar  
  
**Disclaimers**: Buffy and Faith are owned by Joss Whedon, UPN, FOX, Mutant Enemy and etc. I own nothing. No money is being made. (I wish but who in their right mind would pay me for this?)  
**Feedback [[Liv@grlmail.com][1]]**: Please! It's a drug and you don't want to see how bad I get when I'm in withdrawal.  
**Distribution**: If you LOVE it so much take it! Who am I to deny your happiness? Just let me know where it's goin' so I can sit in my little room and gloat! 

**Rating**: R or possibly NC-17. I'm testing out the whore in me. She's feeling wacky tonight! 

***Notes***  
Most fics I've read that are based in the future where Buffy and Faith finally reunite have Faith come back as a pussy. You know, sad and regretful. I can tell you wanna beat me right now. Before you go and do that, I'd like to ask that you stop and hear me out. Although I love the Dark and Hurting Act to pieces, (I really do) I wanted to take another approach to the reunion. I'm feeling dark, angsty and just a tad bit horny. My fingers were itchin' for some action and they ended up on the keyboard. ;) Yeah I know, sick. BITE ME! 

**Spoilers**: Um, I do talk a bit about the Gift and Bargaining but nothin' major. This is supposed to be some time in the future like in 5 - 10 years or something. 

**Summary**: And I quote, "Love makes you do the wacky." 

**Dedication**: This fic goes out to three people! 

To **ForeverFaith**, you're my closest B/F buddy out there. *hugs* I love you girl! (Platonically speaking as always.) 

To **FaithsFollower**, my partner in crime at the [Bronze][2]. *smack* I love you too but you're such a goof! 

And finally, to **Nikita**, I know I promised I wouldn't make you wait too long for the next update to ADR, but I did. I'm sorry! Hopefully this'll make up for it. 

Oh and I guess this also goes out to all you people that have been waiting on ADR too! I'm sorry guys. I promise to update soon! You can spank me if you want! ;) 

*Bends over and pats her tush* 

  
  
  
  
*** 

Maybe I'm crazy. 

Cause I don't know why I keep coming back. 

Yeah. Crazy. That's it. I'm a nut. How can I not be when I keep torturing myself like this? 

Watching her, studying her, craving her…just plain needing her. 

Been doing it for a month now. Watching. I guess the correct term would be stalking. Fuck it! I know I'm a crazy freak! I told you that already! 

She doesn't know though. Or maybe she does and she's just waiting for me to make the first move. I always make the first move. Been doing it ever since I met her. I won't though, because then she'd win. I make a move and she'll fucking throw it in my face that I can't have her. She'll rip my heart out, chew it up like a savage dog rips into fresh meat and when she's done mutilating, she'll spit it out like it was nothing. 

I'm nothing. 

I'm not gonna move. I won't. I can't…I'm a fucking a liar. 

I'm standing here again. Here, as in my dark little corner at the Bronze. No one can see me. But I can see them. 

The place is packed tonight. Everyone's hormones are flying off the chart. Normally the place is tamed, but tonight…tonight's different. 

Everything's humming. Busy bodies gyrating to the heavy beat of the music, showing off skill and stamina. No one's looking for love tonight. Just a dick. Or a cunt. 

Or maybe both. 

I can smell it. The lust. Fuck, I can taste it. Sweat. Sex. It's warms my skin. It's dark in here, but I can see it - the yearning. It's in all their eyes. I can see it cause…it reflects my own. Fuck. I'm horny again. Maybe I can…no. Not enough time. Tonight's the night and if I relieve my little nub's throbbing now I'll fuck up what I came here for. 

Focus. I need to focus. 

There she is. 

She's not smiling but she's sitting there, and she's alive. She's supposed to be dead. You know, rotting away and getting munched on by a million little maggots. Her skin should be stale, wrinkled and fragile to the point that one touch would make it crumble to a pile of dust. But it's warm. Soft. Smooth. Her hair should be dull and pungent, but it glows like gold and it smells like roses. Her eyes should be yellowed, sunken in and shriveled up like prunes. But they're not. They're green and beautiful. 

She's beautiful. 

The gang's with her tonight. But they don't matter. No one does. Except her. 

Funny thing is, it's always been about her. Everyone lives for her. Everyone dies for her. Everyone *kills* for her. 

It's always been about her. Not envy. Not hate. Buffy. 

She's getting up now, giving them some cheap excuse that she's tired and needs to catch up on a few zees. 

But that's not it. 

Yeah she's tired. She's tired of *them.* Who wouldn't? They depend on her so much. It's straining. It's pulling. They're tying her down and she can't get loose. Their *lives* are in her hands. One little fuck-up and it'll destroy everything. So many responsibilities, so many obligations. They don't know what it's like to have so many people depend on you. 

I do. 

They're just here for the ride. You know, quick tour to get the juices flowin'. They can stop if they want to. It's not their job. It's not their life. When that train pulls up to that station, they can get off, free and smiling. 

But not us. Not the Chosen Two. 

We're tied to this ship and we'll go down with it when it sinks. 

And that's why it hurts so much. We're Slayers. We're supposed to know each other inside and out. There's a reason for two of us. We were chosen to be together. We're two halves that make one. 

But we don't. 

She doesn't understand. She never did. 

I crave her. I want her. I ache for her…but that's as far as I can get. I just sit there, alone and longing for her, hoping to whatever's out there that she'll one day return that craving, that want, that ache. 

I just sit there, and hope. 

But what is hope? 

You can't touch it. You can't grab it and make things do what they're supposed to do. 

It's nothing. 

Just a word. 

I'm following her now. It's just after twelve. Sun set hours ago. The night air is strangely cold tonight. Cold, but comforting. My skin tingles as a light draft of wind passes me by, sending sensations all over my body. My body is aware of everything tonight. 

It can feel. It can taste. It can ache. 

I like the way she walks. It's so cute and…cute. Her petite little bod striding around, showing the world what it can't have. Striding. Not walking. Striding. It's not an overconfident stride. It doesn't even scream sex. It's just…striding. When she walks, it speaks volumes. 

You can't touch her. You can't have her. You can't *be* her. 

Makes me want her even more. 

She's finally at her doorstep. *We're* finally at her doorstep. But she doesn't see me cause I'm hiding again. It's always like this. I follow her to the door and hide. I just fucking hide. Who ever thought the Big Bad Faith would hide? Me neither but she's dead now. Been dead for a while really. 

She turns slightly, feeling my presence, but I know she doesn't feel me. She forgot about me a long time ago. 

"Spike? Is that you?" 

His name spills out of her mouth and I feel a huge burning inside my chest. Spike. The *other* vampire. What is it with her and vampire's anyway? I mean, come on! Do you honestly have to be dead to fuck the girl? Oh wait. Riley was alive wasn't he? Then again, he wasn't exactly the love of her life was he? 

I guess I was thinking a little too hard about the subject because I suddenly realize I'm all alone. She's already inside. 

Normally, this is the part where I call myself a chicken shit, and then go home and brood. But not tonight. 

Me brooding? Sounds pretty fucked up huh? If you thought Angel can brood, then you honestly don't know me. I can sit for hours just thinking about her. Hours. Days. Months….She's always in my head. 

Her hands, her eyes, her breasts, her lips…I think about it all. And when I'm done thinking, I dream. 

I'm always kissing her in my dreams. No fucking. Just kissing. The sex comes later. See, when you're fucking, that's all it is. Fucking. But kissing is so much more. It's…special. You're tasting, you're feeling, you're taking, you're sharing. It's an ecstasy. And I'm rough when I'm kissing her, cause that's what our love would be like. 

Pure, raw, animal lust. Hard and fast. Painful…but oh so good. 

The thought of making love to her sends me a high I can't even comprehend. Hot. That's what it would be. Hot. Breaths labored, chests heaving, sweat dripping all over each other's skin. The soft sounds of love would bounce off the walls cause that's all that would come out of either of our mouths. Moaning. Groaning. Whimpering… 

I wonder if she's a screamer? 

I'd give anything just to hear her scream. 

I realize I'm horny again cause I suddenly feel my hand hovering above my crotch. Any other day I'd touch myself right then and there but like I said earlier, tonight's the night. 

I jerk my hand away and breathe in the sweet night air. It's cold and crisp. Just what I need to clear my head. I breathe out slowly and watch the vapor of my breath rise into the night. 

A white little fog. 

Reminds me of when I was little actually. I use to take one of those Popeye cigarettes and pretend to smoke them by blowing my warm breath into the cold air. I thought it was so cool. Big Bad Faith smoking up a cancer stick. I smile to myself, thinking about how the dumb things in life amused me so much when I was I kid…After a while, I didn't have to pretend anymore. I wasn't a little kid for that long. I guess I kinda grew up too fast. 

It's funny how your mind wanders in just a matter of minutes. I guess I must've been deep in thought cause I'm up in the tree now, her window just inches away from my touch. I look through the window and I see that she's already asleep. 

This is it Romeo. Make your move. 

And I do. 

I practically trip my way in, stumbling and barely missing her bed. 

"Fuck!" 

Romantic? Fuck no! 

I pull myself up off the floor and look at her. 

People look different when they sleep. Peaceful. Calm. Soft. Even killers have that look of peace. I mean, I haven't seen it myself, but Angel said I looked that way. 

My heart begins to pound in my chest as I inch closer to the bed. I can hear her slow and steady breathing, music to my ears. I'm at the side of the bed now, looking down. The room is so dark but she's glowing all over. 

I pull the covers down a bit so I can see her. Her hands, her eyes, her breasts, her lips…I see it all. I imagine what it would be like to touch her body with my hands. Soft. Smooth. *Warm.* My stomach begins to send wacky sensations all over my body and my throat feels dryer then a cottonmouth junkie. I close my eyes and try to picture what it's like to have her caress my body, to have her inside of me, to be inside of her. Soft. Smooth. And damn fuckin' warm. 

I could have her right now couldn't I? 

I open my eyes and reach into my pocket and pull out what I came here for. It feels so dead in my hand. It's cold too. The light from the moon seeps in through the window and flickers on the sharpest point of the blade. This is what I came here for. 

To finish it. 

See, I loved Buffy Summers. Key word here? Loved. It's past tense! I loved her so much, I lied for her, fucked for her, killed for her, *died* for her. I LOVED HER. But she doesn't love me. That's why I don't love her anymore. I mean, if I still loved her I wouldn't be hovering above her body with an eight-inch blade in my hand now would I? 

I don't love her. I hate her. I hate Buffy Summers…Don't I? I mean, I'm here to kill her so that means I hate her right? 

"Faith?" 

The sudden sound slaps me outta my daze and I suddenly realize she's awake. 

"Faith?" 

She remembers? She remembers my name? 

"I-is that you…" 

I'm still in shock at the fact that she remembers me when I realize she stopped talking. I look at her eyes and I see she's looking at my knife. And for some reason, I think I actually stopped and noticed it too. 

I'm here to kill her. I'm here, to kill *Buffy.* 

I look into her eyes again and I swear I could've died right there. I don't think I could've ever seen so much emotion in a person's eyes till then. But the strange thing is, I didn't see what I thought I would. Not hate. Not anger. Not disgust. Just…pain. 

I'm here to kill *Buffy.* 

"Faith…" 

The sound of her voice, choking out my name brings out a rage in me that I didn't believe existed. 

What am I doing? I don't love you! I hate you! I HATE BUFFY SUMMERS! 

My body begins to shake and I know that if I squeeze just a bit harder I'll bust the knife. 

"Faith-" 

"Fuck you!" 

Did I just say that? 

"Fuck…you." 

Again, I repeat…Did I just say that?! Seeing the look on her face, I take that as a yes. 

Oh God…What am I doing? 

"W-what do you want?" she whispers so quietly that I have to stop and think to myself whether that's exactly what she said. 

What *do* I want? 

"I hate you." 

The words seem foreign as they slip out of mouth and again I'm asking myself if I said that. 

"Okay…" 

She looks so small. So vulnerable. So…sad. I watch her eyes wander and I know they're looking at my knife again. Her lips tremble and I hear her suck in her breath. Scared. She looks so scared. 

Why isn't she fighting back? I should be down on the floor getting pounded into a bloody pulp. 

But I'm not. 

I'm standing here, with a knife, ready to kill Buffy Summers. 

"I don't love you." 

It comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. But it's true isn't it? 

"I don't love you." 

I can't stop it, and I don't want to stop it…right? 

She's looking at me. Her face is blank. No emotion. Funny thing is, I've always thought that she'd smile or be relieved, you know, jumping for joy? The only time I'd expect this kind of stare is if I said I loved her. Oh God! I didn't say I love her did I? 

"I-DON'T-LOVE-YOU!" 

I say it slow enough and loud enough for me to hear it and know for sure that she sure as hell heard it too. This time, she closes her eyes, and even though we're in pitch black, I know there's a tear dripping down her face. 

_I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you._

I say it in my head like a mantra. Cause I don't. 

"I-is that it then?" 

Is it? 

"Uh…yeah. That's…that's it." 

Moron. You fucking moron! Great way to finish it off Faith. I mean, really, that is one fantastic way to end a heart-wrenching love story with, "Uh…yeah." Someone give me a Grammy cause that was the most tear jerking moment in history…NOT! 

"Okay." 

The look on her face when she says this makes me wanna crack up cry. She looks so lost and so hurt. I never thought I could hurt this girl anymore then when I fucked her boyfriend but the look on her face right now proves me wrong. 

_I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you._

I have to keep telling myself this cause if I don't… 

Shaking. My whole body's shaking and my heart feels like it's gonna rip outta my chest and start doin' a little dance right before eyes. 

What am I gonna do? 

My brain is on overload and I feel like I'm gonna burst a blood vessel. 

What am I gonna do? 

I don't know. 

But my lips seem to know cause I suddenly find them pressed up against hers. 

Holy fuck! I'm kissing her! I'm kissing Buffy Summers! But everything's all wrong. I'm gentle. I'm soft. Not rough. Not wild. I'm kissing her lips so softly that I barely make contact with them. Barely…but just enough. I'm not holding my knife anymore cause both my hands are on the sides of her face, caressing and memorizing every curve. Numb. I am numb all over, but I feel it. I feel it all and it feels so good. I tug at her bottom lip and I swear I hear her moan. 

I've always thought she'd taste like vanilla cause I'm the 'chocolate'. You know, Yin and Yang, Light and Dark, Vanilla and Chocolate. But she doesn't. She tastes…she tastes like Buffy, and it's like nothing else. Fuck, it's better then vanilla. 

But it's wrong. It's ALL wrong cause…she doesn't respond. She doesn't fucking respond. 

But it's okay cause, I don't love her. 

_I don't love her…_

I finally break off the kiss. My kiss. And I look at her face. Her eyes are closed and her face is wet. Are those her tears or mine? 

Her eyelids finally flutter open and her green lock with my brown. 

_I don't love you. I don't love you. I don't love you._

Slowly, I back away. I feel the window with my hands and I get out. I'm about halfway through when I stop. 

"I don't love you." I say with my back turned. 

Then I jump. But I swear, just before I leap, I hear her say one word… 

I reach the ground and I'm about ready to crack up and cry. 

I don't love her. I don't. 

Liar.   
  
  
  
  
  


**The End**

   [1]: mailto:Liv@grlmail.com
   [2]: http://www.bronzeshelter.com/forums/



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